About Your Father
by luna moody
Summary: The discussion of Freddie's father has been avoided at all costs, but a genetics assignment forces it into the limelight. Freddie asks his mom about about his dad, and finds out a very shocking answer! Mild T-rating for alcohol and maybe something else.


In another one of those, it always bugged me, moments...on iFence, Mrs. Benson said that her Father was part of the Fencin' Benson's or something like that. That makes her not a Mrs. and Freddie has her name, not his fathers. Why do we never hear anything about this Mysterious father of his? Here is my guess...

My first non-Seddie fic. Sad, I know, but hey there has to be other people in the iCarlyverse!

Disclaimer: One day I will own iCarly (Cue evil maniacal laughter)…Erm, but not today! (Sneaks away embarrassed)

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Freddie walked in the door and dropped his books near the table. He had a major assignment for science that, for once, he was dreading. It was an assignment on Genetics and Mr. Maycomb was having them trace both sides of their family history back three generations. Freddie was feeling overwhelmingly…hesitant? No. Anxious? No. Apathetic? Definitely not! The only way he could describe it was…Screwed!

Getting his mom's history was easy. She could probably trace hers all the way back to the Ice Age, and had no problem retelling any medical professional within a five mile radius any time Freddie got so much as the sniffles. Getting his father's history, however, was going to be a bit trickier. See, Freddie didn't know much about his father. Well…he didn't know anything about his father at all, really.

Freddie had seen a picture of his dad in a photo book once when he was eight. Whenever he mentioned his father, his mom always changed the subject, or worse, she cried. He absolutely cannot stand to see his mom cry. No really, and not for the reason you think! You know how there are some women in the movies that look absolutely gorgeous when they cry…his mom is not one of them. Her face gets all blotchy, and her eyes crinkle up. Her lips swell and turn up in this weird way, like she just smelled something absolutely horrible. Freddie doesn't cry that often (anymore), but he hopes that this is one thing he didn't inherit from his mom's side.

He didn't really want to ask her about his dad, but he really needed to know if he wanted a good grade. At his age, he reasoned, he should probably know anyway. He planned on having kids someday and it was only responsible that he should know about his children's grandfather, isn't it? Freddie made up his mind. Crying or not, he was going to have to talk to his mom.

That night, Freddie took great care in fixing her favorites for dinner, Oat Bran and Broccoli Casserole (He made sure to sneak some leftover pizza from Carly's earlier). He figured maybe it would be a bit easier, if she were in a good mood. He had just laid out the Very Berry Surprise for dessert when he finally decided it was the right time.

"So Mom," he started hesitantly. "We have an interesting project for science this time. You can help me a lot with it...in fact, we were encouraged to get our parents' help this time."

"Oh really," Mrs. Benson said excitedly. "I love science, what is it?"

"Well, it's an assignment on genetics." He tried to sound excited in an attempt to divert her attention from where this was leading. "We're supposed to go back and trace our genetic history to find dominant traits and hereditary similarities."

"Oh Fantastic!" Mrs. Benson jumped up to grab one of her many family archive books off the bookshelf. "I have information and pictures going back seven generations. Anything you need to know about the Benson line is all right here."

"Right," he said slowly. "That's only half the assignment, though. We're also supposed to do it for our father's side…"

Mrs. Benson dropped back into her chair and the book fell into her plate with a loud clank. Freddie knocked over both drink glasses trying to get to it, while Mrs. Benson sat there staring at him numbly.

"Mom, you're not going to cry or get hysterical are you?" he asked cautiously as he tried to sop up the mess. Mrs. Benson just opened her mouth several times to speak only to wordlessly close it again. "Mom, I'm 15 now, don't you think it's time I knew something about my father? I mean, even if he's horrible, I can take it. I know I'm not him! Tell me anything…please"

Freddie looked into his mom's eyes. There was a slight panic and sadness in them that Freddie couldn't ignore. "Freddie," she managed to get out before she started choking up on her words.

Freddie watched as she walked over to her cabinet that held all of her bunny collectibles. She felt for the key underneath then unlocked the glass cabinet that held her "Mommy's Special Bunnies". She pulled out a large pink-eared bunny and walked back to the table. She quietly sat the bunny down in front of her, then suddenly grabbed it and yanked off its head!

"Mom! What are you doing?" he asked worried. She didn't answer, she just picked up Freddie's glass and poured in an amber colored liquid, filling the glass about a quarter full. "Here honey, why don't you drink this," she said handing him the glass. Freddie took it hesitantly as he watched her fill her own glass.

"What is this?" He asked cautiously. He watched as she quickly picked up her own glass and downed it in less than a second.

She coughed a bit as she tried to answer. "It's Mommy's special brave juice, sweetheart. Drink up, I think we're both going to need this," she said pouring herself another glass.

Freddie pulled the glass to his nose and took a sniff. The smell immediately caused his nose hairs to burn. "Mom, what are you drinking?" he yelled.

"Lower your voice, honey!" She said as she downed her second glass. (cough)"It's just 15 year old 90 proof Irish Whiskey. I got it as a baby shower gift when I was pregnant with you, drink up!" She poured herself another.

Freddie was so shocked by her behavior, that he was having trouble forming words. "Mom," he stammered. "Why would talking about my father cause you to act like _this,_" he asked pointing to his still untouched glass of whiskey.

"Because, my little lamb…you…you don't…I didn't…ah hell!" She downed her third glass then slammed the glass on the table. Without taking a breath she spit the words out of her mouth quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. "You don't have a father, Freddie. (Hic)"

Freddie watched her in shock for a minute then half heartedly started to chuckle. "What are you talking about? Of course I have a father, everyone has a father." His face suddenly became angry as he thought about his mother lying to keep it from him. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you at least tell me his name?"

Mrs. Benson's head dropped to the table from shame and embarrassment. "Because, you're father doesn't have a name, just a number. Number 47482" She looked up and saw the confusion on her son's face.

"Freddie, your father was a Spermcicle! You were conceived in a little glass tube! " She finally blurted out, before covering her mouth in shock.

Freddie downed his glass of whiskey. The raging fire in his chest briefly overtook his numb shock, as the whiskey surely just melted his esophagus! He sputtered and coughed until the burning finally died down, and he could breathe again. Too many ideas at once started raging through his head. "What about that picture I saw in the photo album that you said was my dad. Is that number 47 whatever?"

Mrs. Benson let out a nervous chuckle. "Um, no honey, that came with the album. I forgot to take it out after I bought it, and you sort of assumed…you were so sure it looked like you, that I didn't have the heart to correct you."

Freddie's mind was reeling for any explanation. "What about that boyfriend Grandpa was talking about. You know, the hippie activist guy or whatever; the one that you ran away with to Canada for three months. The one that Grandpa called a pimple on the butt of society, he's my real dad, right? You're just trying to protect me from him?"

Mrs. Benson shook her head. "Gerald? No. He was handsome and exciting and a really big…"

"Mom! If you start talking about your sex life you might as well call the loony bin to reserve me a room right now." Mrs. Benson reached for Freddie's glass to refill it, but Freddie yanked the decapitated bunny from her hands and downed what little liquid was left through it's tiny porcelain neck.

"I was going to say dream," she said calmly as she placed the bunny head back on the figurine. "He was definitely lacking in a lot of areas though," she gave a sorrowful chuckle.

"Mom!" Freddie warned.

"No, I mean, he didn't want to bring kids into this…" she threw up the air quotes, "God forsaken world. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother, so I left him. I didn't want to wait another two years, or five years, or however long it would take to find the love of my life, so I worked three jobs to save enough money, and a year later I had the procedure and…"

"And?...and ordered a baby out of a catalogue," he said with a hint of bitterness.

"And ... I _created_ the love of my life!" Her eyes became a bit misty, as she rested her hand on his. "The minute you were born, I stopped being Marissa Benson and became the second most important person in the world…your mom." She watched the bitterness melt from his eyes, but what she wanted most was to see him smile. " I know you think I'm sometimes overprotective and pushy…Oh hell, I know I'm insane sometimes..."

"Mom!" Freddie laughed in shock of her second use of a forbidden four-letter word.

"It's just that I want to make sure that I'm really good at my job," she smiled broadly. "It is the most important job in the world, after all." Freddie blushed and gave a soft chuckle. "Are you ok with all of this, honey?" she asked tenderly. "I know it's a huge shock."

"Yeah, it is!" He blew out a huge breath to calm down a bit. "I just, kind of, have a lot to sort out, but I'll be fine." He smiled the smile she had been waiting for. "After all, I have one parent that's great at her job, who needs two?" Mrs. Benson gave a happy little scream and pulled him into a giant hug. She squeezed so hard he couldn't breathe. "Mom…Air!"

"Oh, quiet, Fredward, a few seconds of this isn't going to kill you!" She laughed. When she pulled back she put the mom face back on. "Well, Mister. I think we've had quite enough of this seriousness for tonight. Tomorrow, I think want to discuss changing up the rules. I suppose I can ease up on you a bit, so we'll have to iron out some new agreements, ok?"

Freddie chuckled, "Absolutely! I'll even be home early! For now though, would you mind if I go take a walk…just to clear my head a bit?"

Mrs. Benson started clearing the table. "Sure just don't go too fa… I mean be caref… Ugh, just don't be gone to long," she finally decided. "I will get better at this overprotective thing I promise," she said as she kissed him on the head.

Freddie got up and headed for the door. "Hey Freddie…" He looked at her and saw the bunny in her hand. "Just so you know, young man. This whole bunny thing…was a one time deal, and it will not be refilled!"

Freddie chuckled as he reached for the handle. "Good idea, Mom!" He walked out into the hallway and suddenly felt overwhelmed by his thoughts again. Instead of going for a walk, like he said, he just slumped down next to the wall and let his mind work out some of the recent revelation. He was only there a few minutes before Carly and Spencer came home from dinner. They were laughing at something one of them had just said.

"Oh Hey, Freddie" Carly said cheerily. "I was just telling Spencer about our Genetics project." Freddie gave her a strange disappointed smile. Carly looked at him concerned then turned to her brother. "Hey Spencer, take these in. I'll be there in a few minutes." Spencer took the doggie bag and purse from Carly and gave a quick bop to Freddie's shoulder before going inside Apartment 8C. Carly slid down next to Freddie and watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Are you alright?"

"It's just been sort of an intense night," was all he could manage to get out.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked calmly.

"No," he said plainly. He looked at her and saw the concerned look on her face. "I mean, yeah, something is obviously bothering me, but if you don't mind…this one I'd like to keep to myself."

"Ok." Her words were reassuring, but it didn't do much to change the concern on her face.

Freddie took a deep breath then jumped up. "Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure." He took her hand and helped her off the floor and they headed back toward the elevator.

"So," Freddie said a little bit brighter. "Did I mention I'm going to fail Science?"

"You're the smartest kid in class," Carly laughed. "Why would you fail Science?"

"Because I've decided I'm not doing the Genetics project," he said almost more to reassure himself than to inform Carly.

"Oh," she frowned for a second then cheered up a bit. "Well, maybe you can work with Sam. She's not doing the Genetics assignment either. The teacher's letting her do something else."

"Sam doesn't know about her father?" he asked as they boarded the elevator.

"I don't know," Carly shrugged. "I think she just wanted to avoid talking to her mom, so she told Mr. Maycomb that she's adopted, and the only thing they know about her parents is that they were circus folk killed when the human cannonball landed in the lion tamers cage." Freddie laughed and shook his head as the doors began to close. "Anyway, I'm sure he'll let you work with her on something else. You two can't be the only ones in this situation."

The End

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TA-DA. Mystery solved! Well at least in my own little fantasy world. Mrs. Benson is probably a little OOC, but I figured there couldn't be anyone that neurotic in the world that didn't have some little help every now and then. I decided that now that she passed that point of fear with Freddie, she could probably ease up on him a bit too. BTW I'm going to try posting this one on Groovy Smoothie too.

Well, You know what to do now, don't you? You don't? Do I need to spell it out for you? (puts on an insanely short skirt and a peppy ponytail)

Gimme an R. Gimme an E. Gimme a V. Gimme an I. Gimme another E. Gimme a W. Ugh, Gimme a break! Just go review already! Please and Thank you.


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